


C'est La Vie

by AnotherGallavichLove



Series: La Vie [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, College, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Molestation, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGallavichLove/pseuds/AnotherGallavichLove
Summary: Four years. Forty seven months. Two hundred and eight weeks. One thousand, four hundred and sixty days. That's how long college is. How the fuck can it all become so screwed up within a fourth of that time?





	1. Trouble Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> So this is happening. This universe calms me down to write about, just because I know it so well. I don't know when the updates are going to be, if anybody is even still interested in this universe, I finished the first story over a year ago lol. 
> 
> To make things extra confusing, this picks up before the epilogue. So a few months after the last actual chapter, about a year before the epilogue. 
> 
> Anyway. This is obviously a sequel, so read La Vie En Rose first. Or don't. Because the writing sucks. 
> 
> k byeeeee
> 
>  
> 
> [(Also I made a trailer if anyone wants it.)](http://milkozude.tumblr.com/post/160512071643/im-posting-the-first-chapter-today-so-i-figured)

“Try again”, Cole declared, the basketball shooting up a small cloud of dust as he pushed it onto the pavement, causing it to bounce up and land in between Brian’s hands, the latter boy backing up two steps, giving himself a better view of the hoop, the morning sun shining brightly, disturbing his eyes somewhat. He put pressure on the ball, waiting for a minute before lifting his arms up into the air and making the freethrow - barely. It rolled around on the edge of the hoop once - almost twice - before it fell in through the middle, Cole catching it immediately. “Man, how did you even get into college? This is horrible”, Brian’s boyfriend stated - truthfully - although, to be honest, it wasn’t all that much of a mystery. While Brian was very good at basketball - when he hadn’t been off the court for almost two months, that was, which was why he was struggling at the moment - his straight A’s probably hadn’t exactly put a cane in the wheel of Duke’s accepting him.

“I know, this fucking sucks, I gotta get back into it before college”, the older boy sighed - mostly to himself - as he reached up to rub his palm over his face, his fingers the threading through the black curls on his head, reminding him of the fact that they were in the way - thankfully, he hadn’t let Mandy or Lana near it with scissors in months, so by now it was long enough that he could tug the skinny black hairtie off of his wrist and tie it up on a bun at the back of his head - as pathetic of a bun as it may make.

“This ball needs to be pumped, probably isn’t helping you either”, was Cole’s response as he looked down at the somewhat weak basketball in between his hands, his legs carrying him over the court to stand next to Brian. Cole moved around for a minute, the white boy backing away to give him some more space as he looked up at the hoop, hesitating for a minute to make sure he got it right - then he threw it, making almost an identical throw to his boyfriend - which, seeing as Cole had mostly played for fun his entire life, wasn’t a great thing for Brian.

“Damn it.”

“Aye B, be proud of me!”, Cole laughed, pushing his bicep and earning a push back as Brian sat off, running towards the ball as it was on its way to disappearing in the distance, reaching it right before it rolled off the grass and onto the gravel.

“Fuck the freethrows!”, Brian yelled to make sure that his voice would be heard over the slight morning wind, his walk going over into more of a jog as he bounced the basketball on the court as soon as he reached it again. “One on one.” The ball hit the ground once more before he picked it up, placing it to Cole’s stomach, the thin, cantaloupe colored fabric of his muscle tee most likely ending up with some of the dirt and dust off of it. “And I’m gonna win this time.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, Milkovich?” Brian sucked his own bottom lip into his mouth as he nodded, humming, Cole parroting the sound as their faces traveled closer. “We’ll see about that”, the younger boy stated, his arm wrapping around Brian’s waist right before capturing his boyfriend’s lips in between his own, eyes drifting closed as they kissed in the morning sun.

Only for a moment, though; because then Cole pushed Brian away and stole the ball, giving him a head-start that caused a river of curse words fall from Brian’s lips as he chased after him.

***

Ian’s view of the television screen had been somewhat shielded by the multiple glasses of half-drunken orange juice and bowls that had once contained either cereal or yoghurt - or both - but since it was the summer, practically nobody in the house cared to clean their dishes right away - much less bothered to eat in the kitchen rather than in the livingroom, which was why everything ended up on the coffee table. Sooner or later, someone would have to take care of it, but at the moment, every single person in the Milkovich family seemed to have better things to do. Brian had headed out before anybody else had woken up, Briana was still asleep, and Ian was safely leaned back against his husband’s chest as they lazily watched whatever random cartoon was playing at eight thirty in the morning.

Even with the morning caffeine in their blood, both of the men could feel their eyelids become somewhat heavy again, most likely because they were just very comfortable, laying like this, Mickey’s arms wrapped around Ian’s chest, the freckled fingers holding his wrists. Mickey reached up, moving some of the auburn hair out of his face, both of them chuckling in unison as some lame, dirty joke was made on screen.

“You got anything to do today?”, Mickey questioned soon, to which Ian shook his head.

“Mandy has a doctor’s appointment, but when I asked if she wanted us to come, she practically bit my head off”, he replied, Mickey fighting the urge to roll his eyes - it hadn’t even been two months since they had decided that they wanted another kid, and Ian and Mandy were already on it like… some clever metaphor that he didn’t have enough energy to think of. Not that he wasn’t exited himself - he was, surprisingly, seeing as he had never seen himself having another kid in the future. And he supposed that he understood why Mandy had to go to these doctor things, despite the fact that she wasn’t pregnant yet - just making sure everything was good, that she was healthy and everything was going according to plan - especially since they were doing insemination. There was no way in hell that Mickey and Lana were letting their partners fuck just to have a kid - not that Ian and Mandy would ever do it, no matter how much they may joke about it. Everyone knew that.

“She gets like that”, was all Mickey could think to murmur back, lacing their fingers together and tilting his head down a little bit so that he could bury more of his face in his husband’s hair - and get more of that scent that he had never and would never get enough of.

“Hey!”, Brian called out as soon as he entered the house through one of the backdoors, walking right into the dining room.

“Hey, Bud, what’s in the bag?”, Mickey questioned, Ian pushing himself up to sit, running his fingers through his hair to make it look a little bit less as if he hadn’t done shit with it in over two days - but it was the summer, who actually cared? The last few months, they had all just kind of been running in and out of the house, doing nothing and everything, enjoying the sun - it was one of the best times of the year, honestly.

“Uh…”, Brian toed his shoes off by the glass door, then he begun to walk the few steps over to the kitchen island, disappearing just out of sight from the couch. “Watermelon, oranges. Some bread. Briana up?”

“I don’t know - Briana!” Mickey called his daughter’s name loudly, making sure that it would reach her room, should she be awake. But after a good thirty seconds of silence, they all realized that she was most likely still asleep. “Yeah, probably not.” Ian and Mickey both stood up from the couch, the former bringing his empty breakfast bowl and cup with him into the kitchen.

“Bri was the one who asked me to get some”, Brian said, using the large knife in his hand to gesture to the watermelon that had been placed on the cutting board in front of him. “Probably fell back asleep, you guys want some?”

***

“How come I’ve never known about this place?”, Mandy questioned, looking around the fifties themed diner - the checkered floor, the blue barstools, the milkshakes in front of each and every person at the table. And of course the music in the background that made it feel as if she had walked into a time machine, not a diner.

“I don’t know, it’s kind of our thing”, Briana was the one to answer her before placing her mouth to the straw - mostly, it was her, Brian and their dad’s thing. Yevgeny came sometimes, but mostly it was just the three of them. She liked it that way. They had found it, they had made friends with the owners - their favorite one wasn't here right now, which had bummed her out - and they had made it their place. But it was long overdue that they invited the rest of their family, honestly. And it couldn’t have been a better place for the goodbye dinner, right before she and Brian were about to leave for college. As soon as Brian had suggested it, everybody had jumped on the wagon.

“How long have you been going here?”

“Years”, Mickey answered. “Just haven’t told you about it, ‘cause we didn’t want you to know.” Chuckles rang among all six of them as Mandy kicked her brother's leg underneath the table. The laughter rather quickly vanished, though, when the waitress came up to them, and everybody begun ordering.

***

Struggling to push the last tank top down into her bag, Briana pushed the fabric down, having to place her knee onto the fake leather material of the bag before she could finally tug the zipper closed, relaxing with a semi-satisfied sigh as she straightened up again. One of her father’s black hoodies were draped over the upper part of her body, the right sleeve tucked in; the size was so large that it reached almost all the way down to her knees, covering up the bleached jean shorts, making it look as if she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. But as she turned around and looked in the full length mirror, she realized that with Brian’s old combat boots and the indian-style elephant tattoo on her thigh - which she still hadn’t quite gotten used to, having only had it for a month or so - it looked okay.

Moving the jet-black strands of her hair over to one shoulder, she then picked all three of her bags up - two in her left hand, and the lightest one on her right shoulder, staying surprisingly easily as she walked out of her room, leaving the yellow walls behind.

“Where’s your brother? Weren’t you supposed to be leaving now?” Her father’s voice reached her ears a mere few steps from the bottom floor; they were both sitting side by side on the couch, seemingly having been talking amongst themselves before she had joined them. Dropping all of her bags down to the floor next to Brian’s - making sure to keep a healthy distance seeing as they were the exact same kind of bags - she nodded, placing her hand on her waist.

“Yeah…”, she started, taking a few steps closer to the couch. “We have a goodbye present for you, he went with Mandy to pick it up.” The words immediately caused confusion to cross her dad’s face, and surprise wash over her papa’s.

“Oh… well, you guys didn’t have to do that”, Ian said - they hadn’t gotten the twins anything to say goodbye. Well - except for the blue Range Rover outside, but both Ian, Mickey, Mandy and Lana had been forced to chip into that one - even Yev had dropped a couple hundred dollars into the pot.

“What is it?”, Mickey tried, earning himself a look from his daughter, right as they heard a car pull up to the house.

“They’re here”, Briana turned around to head towards the door, running out to meet them while Ian and Mickey stayed in the livingroom, now standing up - Ian was relaxed, simply curious - while Mickey had his arms crossed over his chest, chin tilted up a little bit as he struggled to see what this was all about. Honestly - he hated surprised, good or bad, he would rather know what was going on. But then again - he was hardly the kind of person to be unappreciative when his kids got him something, so he inwardly cursed himself, and decided to be thankful no matter what it was. And despite the fact that he had somewhat of a bad feeling about it.

“What the fuck is that?” Plan failed.

Brian came in through the door, Briana pressed tightly to his side and Mandy following behind them both. In his arms was a small - actually, fairly large would probably be a better word, even though it was clearly a baby - beige, moving bundle of what looked like nothing but wrinkles. The puppy had its face buried in his chest, either sleeping or hiding, small and muffled noises escaping every once in a while.

“It’s a puppy!” Mickey barely fucking recognized his husband’s voice as he passed him to get to the baby animal. “What breed is it?” Ian asked then, as Brian carefully placed his large hands around its stomach, lifting it over so that the older man could hold it.

“It’s a bullmastiff”, Briana answered him, unable to keep from grinning as she watched the puppy blink exhaustedly, its wrinkly face soon collapsing back into Ian’s chest, seemingly falling back asleep.

“The fucking huge ones you always wanted?”, Mickey questioned as he stood still in the back, arms crossed over his chest, amusement nowhere to be found on his face. They weren’t getting a fucking dog. No way. The thing would leave its beige hairs everywhere, it would drool and become huge and pee inside - no way he was letting them all get their way.

“Yes”, was all Briana said as she continued to pet the puppy where it was still wrapped up in Ian’s arms, all four of them cooing at it as if it were a baby - which incidentally they had actually decided to have soon, and they didn’t need two.

“Neither of you are fooling me, alright?”, Mickey asked as he took a step closer. “You guys wanted a puppy, but you can’t take one to college so you got us one instead - we’re not keeping it.”

“Bullshit”, Ian spoke, the tone of his voice way too soft to match the word as he adjusted the puppy a little bit, making it sit more comfortably in his hands. “I’m keeping it.” Then he made his voice even a little bit softer, grabbing the dog softly around it’s belly, holding him in front of his face, the animal blinking, not knowing what was going on. “He’s just grumpy, he’ll get used to it”, he assured the thing, Mickey rolling his eyes. “Mickey, he’s so cute, look.”

“Oh, it’s a she”, Mandy corrected.

“The shelter named her Rose”, Briana added, continuing it grin as she watched the tired puppy.

“The thing’s cute, but we’re not keeping it”, Mickey stood his ground. “Why can’t you guys take her?”, he looked at his sister then, who shook her head.

“Lana’s allergic”, she explained - which, by the way, Mickey called complete bullshit on. Like hell Lana was allergic, she just didn’t like dogs, and she was smarter and faster than Mickey to come up with an excuse. “And besides - you’re not gonna have another kid in the house for at least another year. You’re gonna be lonely.” Bullshit. Him and Ian having the house all to themselves would be heaven. Why did they have to have this thing to disturb them?

“Mickey, we have a dog now”, Ian stated. “Give it up.” Sighing, Mickey let his arms fall to the sides of his body, realizing that there was no way in hell that he was going to win this argument - at least not right now. Maybe he would try again tomorrow.

***

“You guys have to drive safe, yes?”, Svetlana made the twins promise as they struggled to fit all of their bags in the baggage and backseat of the Rover - some things their dads would have to send there, seeing as there was no way they would be able to fit them. Brian’s boxing dummy, for example.

“Call as soon as you get there…”, the voices faded out somewhat as Brian walked away from the car, heading towards the sidewalk where he saw his boyfriend standing, waiting. They had said goodbye a couple of times, but if they could take another few minutes by themselves, they would - they weren’t breaking up. Of course they had had that conversation, but they didn’t want to. However, they both knew that things could become complicated under the next few months - years, whatever - so it was difficult. For both of them.

As soon as Brian was close enough to Cole, he without a word wrapped an arm around his neck, kissing him. It was still early in the morning, the birds singing far up in the trees; Cole could feel the scent of roses mixed with cigarette smoke as his nose pressed against Brian’s cheek, the kiss deepening, his hands placed onto his waist, clutching the black fabric of his shirt.

“Text me when you’re there?”, Cole questioned a second or two after they had broken apart, faces still so close that his breath fanned over Brian’s lips right before he nodded, silently assuring him that he would do just that.

“I love you”, months and months had passed since the first time he had said it, but he doubted that he had meant it more than now. It was just so real that things could change - things were going to be different now. Whether they wanted them to be or not.

“I love you”, Cole nodded. “I’ll see if I can drive up soon.”

“And I’ll come see you whenever I’m back”, Brian said. “Promise”, it was a few lame - and rather obvious statements, but it was as if they just had to assure each other, and themselves that they could do this. Nodding, Cole went back in for another kiss, their arms lacing all the way around each other as they pulled apart, tilting their heads to the other side and going in for more.

Eventually, they had to let go of each other. Cole turned around to head back to his house, and Brian went to head back to the fully packed car, attempting to shake off the sadness by looking at the puppy in Ian’s arms. Puppies always made things better.

***

Half an hour - fifty minutes, maybe - into the trip, the car was rushing along the open road with Brian at the wheel, his sister safely asleep in the passenger seat, temple leaned against the window as soft sighs escaped her nose. The radio was turned on - not quite loud enough for him to hear the words, but enough that it was a steady background noise as he drove, oddly at peace.

In fact, he wasn’t very nervous at all. Some stirring might end up appearing in his stomach once they got closer, but for now he was fine - and this felt good. Like a new start of some kind.

***

Charlie could hear her own steps echoing as she walked along the grey, empty hallways of the police station, trying to find a way to get out of the labyrinth of a building - she really should have known better than to have a bottle of Jack in the front seat as she was driving. Obviously, she was smart enough not to drink while driving, but the officer than had pulled her over for speeding hadn’t been all that convinced. Taking her into the station had seemed like a little bit of an exaggeration, but maybe he just hadn't had much to do. Either way, there wasn’t much harm done, since she was free to go now - save for a good few bucks for the ticket.

Shaking her head to herself in an attempt to wake up a little bit, she rolled her shoulders back and then gathered up the light brown hair into a ponytail, safely securing it with a hairtie to get it all out of her face as she begun to recognize her environment a little bit, being able to spot the elevator doors in the distance.

However, there was something in between that caught her eye. A little girl. Sitting on the edge of one of the benches in the hallway, her hands placed right next to her, head tilted down, causing her face to be completely shielded, mostly by the massive amounts of black, curly hair that fell down over her back and shoulders. Frowning, Charlie slowed down her steps a little bit, the squeaking of her chucks against the floor becoming quieter than it had been a moment ago.

Once she was close enough, Charlie sank down a little bit closer to the floor to be at level with the girl.

“What’s your name?”, it took a moment before there was a reaction, but soon she lifted her head, looking at the woman. The girl wasn’t crying, but sadness painted her features, her teeth seemingly biting at the inside of her cheek, hesitating before she answered.

“Bella”, the voice was weak - and just as sad as the rest of her.

“W-“ Charlie was interrupted by a hand being placed onto her upper back, causing her to frown and stand up, turning around to face the officer - the officer who happened to be her father. He nodded backwards, gesturing for her to come with him, just a few steps to make sure that the girl wouldn’t be able to hear them.

“Charlotte, why are you here?”, he questioned, simply confusion in his tone. She shrugged, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“I got pulled over for speeding, I had some alcohol in the passenger seat - anyway, who is that?”, she looked back at the girl now, again - her head was tilting down, legs moving back and forth since she couldn’t quite reach the floor - she couldn’t be much older than five. Six, maybe.

“Oh, that’s um…”, sadness painted his tone. “That’s Isabella. She just got brought in, her father passed away in an accident a few days ago”, Charlie frowned, feeling pity form in her stomach. “Her mom’s already dead, and she doesn’t seem to have any relatives around, so…”, he trailed off, shrugging. “I guess she’s going into the system - it’s sad. She’s bright already.”

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, turning around to observe the child again, some kind of lump forming in her throat. She looked so sad, broken, even at this age. She didn’t even want to know where the beautiful little girl would end up.

***

Having decided to leave his two biggest bags in the car for now, Brian entered the dormitory with only the lightest one draped over his shoulder, his large hand clutching the base of the fabric strap. A part of him had wanted to have his sister by his side, but she had stayed behind in the car, wanting to wait a few minutes, and they were going to be living on opposite sides of the building anyway. So he made his way through the people, looking down at the paper map that he had received; thankfully, he had been smart enough to mark his dorm with a pen, as well as typing the number into his phone, just in case he would forget it.

A thin strand of his curly hair reached all the way down to his shoulder, tickling the skin somewhat, he reached up to scratch the itch right before he arrived outside of the dorm. In this part of the building, it was a lot more quiet, only a few people stumbling past him and behind him, walking right into the neighbour rooms.

Brian found himself taking a deep breath, once again making sure that this was the right room before he used the key that he had received, walking inside. His very first impression of the dorm was that it was a lot larger than he would have assumed - two beds and a large window placed in between them - and a good amount of room on either side of the beds.

Satisfied from the very first second, he pushed the door closed and threw his bag onto the bed that hadn’t been covered in clothes and books already.

“Who the fuck are you?” Brian couldn’t help the slight jump that his heart took, startled as he turned around to face the voice. In a chair in the corner - as in the corner as you could possibly come - there was a guy, his roommate, he would obviously assume.

All in a few seconds, Brian found himself observing the guy, just to feel him out, wondering if he would have any trouble with him or not. Even sitting as he did, he seemed tall - long legs bent, large combat boots thrown up onto the cheap, empty television stand. In long jeans, a white long sleeves shirt and a leather vest - most of his skin was covered, but it was still obvious that said skin was absolutely covered in tattoos - from the hands that held onto the phone that he seemed so very interested in, to his neck and even some on his face.

The dark hair on top of his head was overly styled in an Elvis kind of way - the kind of hair that would only ever look good on… well, Elvis.

Already, Brian was biting his tongue, wanting to say something incredibly Milkovich-like - simply because of the attitude he was obviously getting from this guy already. But instead he swallowed, and he forced his arms to hang limply by his sides instead of crossed over his chest in defence.

“I’m Brian”, he answered. “Pretty sure I’m your roommate.”

The guy looked up from his phone, eyes drifting up and down Brian’s body in a way that very much said ‘You ain’t shit.’

“Ronnie.”

***

“You are sure you’re okay?” Lana’s voice came pouring into Briana’s ear, the latter nodding to herself as she picked at one of the strands that wanted to come off of her distressed shorts. The sun was beaming down from the sky, over the parking lot, the hood of the car almost becoming too hot for her to lean against, but she was doing it anyway.

“Yeah, we’re fine. I just wanted to talk for a bit”. After the shooting - and even, really before that, seeing as she was daddy’s little girl - and honestly, Mandy and Lana’s little girl, too - she had always had people around her, giving her whatever she wanted and needed. Whether she wanted to have fun, or she wanted to cry, or she wanted to talk, or she wanted to get high - she always had people to do it with. Maybe now she was first realizing that things would be different - very different.

Sure, she had Brian, and she would make some new friends around here, most likely, but it wasn’t the same thing. Not really.

“Have you gone in yet?”, Lana asked then, and Briana thought that she could hear Mandy somewhere in the background, asking to talk to her, but the phone wasn’t being handed over.

“Brian’s inside, I’m about to”, she explained, letting her eyes drift over the parking lot. It had been emptied out somewhat since they had arrived - for the most part, parents were dropping off their kids, and then going back home - something that the twins’ dads had of course offered to do, but Brian and Briana had decided to drive themselves. It felt easier somehow. Besides, then they could have the car here without trouble.

The afternoon sun was about to settle in the distance now, giving the view somewhat of an orange glow as it fell; Briana watched people lug boxes around, hugging, saying goodbye, kissing - everything. Somehow it made her feel better to know that she wasn’t the only person who would be saying goodbye to things and people - even if it sometimes felt like it, seeing as she had always had trouble adjusting to change.

“Well, call one of us tomorrow, yes? Let us know how things go.”

“We will”, Briana assured Lana. “I should go.”

“Bye, sweetheart”, her voice came through the phone one last time before Briana said goodbye as well, bringing the device down from her ear, ending the call.

She stayed there for just a second or two more, looking down at the screen. Then she reached over and took the car-keys out of the ignition, opening the passenger side door and getting out, her legs screaming in happiness over finally being able to stretch out for real once again. She tucked her phone into the back-pocket of her shorts, then she opened the door to the backseat, reaching in for one of the bags, draping it over her right shoulder before grabbing the second one, deciding to leave the last until tomorrow.

With only one arm, she was having to struggle a fair bit to figure out how to carry everything, and then also shut the car and lock it up, but eventually she managed to do it, using her foot to kick the door closed. As soon as she pressed the button and the sound reached her ears, letting her know that the Rover was locked, she turned around, looking up at the sky.

Despite the fact that the night would soon fall, the sky was still rather blue, only the occasional cloud in sight as she blinked once or twice, her eyes getting used to the brightness. Some happy birds sang in the distance, a few more cars pulling out of the parking lot. She tilted her head back down to look straight ahead at the building again.

Hitching her bag further up her shoulder and fastening her grip on the second one, she begun to walk towards her room, just barely missing the flock of screaming, jet-black ravens that traveled over the blue sky.


	2. Once I'm Drunk, I'll Be Somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In fact, a lot of the people in high school had been even more nice about it, seeing as they knew exactly what had happened - they had been there, they had seen her recovering, listened to her curse as she had more than one thing to carry at a time. It wasn’t as if people in college were rude about it - they never said anything, and if they did, it was rather respectful. They looked, though - they always fucking looked, and sometimes it made her wish that she had inherited a little bit more of her father’s balls rather than her mother’s kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning for sexual assault* It's extremely vague, but keep it in mind.

Mickey was rather sure that he cursed out loud before he was even completely conscious; he could feel the morning sun burning in through the window, disturbing him even through his closed eyes, not to mention the fact that he had rolled over to get closer to his husband, his foot hitting something wet, and horribly warm.

“Fuck”, he cursed, this time completely aware of himself, his eyes opening. Just as he thought, once he pushed himself to sit up, he saw the darkened, wet stain by the foot of the bed, the mindless, annoying teddy bear sitting right next to it, waving its tail, eyes open, tongue outside of its mouth as it breathed heavily, seemingly in the mood to play. Mickey was not. “Ian”, a forceful push to his still sleeping partner joined the word, and when he didn’t immediately react - another one. “The fucking dog, Ian”, he complained as soon as he begun stirring, turning around, red hair completely all over the place, eyes barely open.

“What?”

“The fucking dog peed the bed, Ian, I don’t want to deal with this shit - I never wanted the thing.” Ian sighed, seemingly coming into his body again as he pushed himself to sit, taking a second or two to just wake up before he stood up, his hands curling around the puppy’s stomach, lifting him gently and heading towards the exit of the bedroom, most likely to go put her onto the grass outside.

“Don’t get mad at the dog”, Ian mumbled on his way out. “It’s not the dog’s fault.” Mickey sighed, collapsing back into the bed, closing his eyes, hoping that he would be able to grab another hour or two of sleep, as long as he kept his feet away from the end of the bed.

***

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Brian listened rather intensely to the sound that the basketball made as he continuously pushed it to the ground, causing it to jump back up, so that he could push it back down again, slowly and easily dribbling it in his spot. Finally, he picked it up, throwing it towards the basket; it rolled around on the edge once, and then twice before finally falling in through the net. That was pathetic, but at least it wasn’t a miss; he chose to blame it on the fact that he was in the gym way too early, and it was still dark. Maybe he could find the light-switch if he could be bothered, but he was able to see enough, so he hadn’t tried.

Going back to dribbling the ball, he found his mind drifting - to this, to college. And to his family, and to really a bunch of different things. His mind drifted so far that he didn’t notice the other person on the court until a large hand curled around his shoulder, and he flinched, spinning around.

“Sorry”, the guy laughed, and Brian wondered whether he could hear a southern accent - not a lot of it, not to the point where it would be comical at all, but maybe just a little bit. Then again, he probably had a Miami accent himself… whatever that was. “Didn’t mean to scare you - care to share the ball?”, the guy asked then. A quick sweep over the guy made Brian make the first impression that he seemed nice - seemingly natural smile on his face, black hair towards his shoulders. He looked interesting, he wasn’t sure what his ethnicity could be - possibly Native American. But then again, seeing as Brian’s mother had been full latina, and he was perceived by most people as white as he could possibly be - Briana had gotten the brown skin for some reason, he hadn’t - he should have learned not to assume somebody’s racial background.

“Uh, sure”, Brian finally shrugged, throwing it over.

“Thanks”, the guy said. “Dean.” He reached out a hand towards Brian, then, the latter taking it without much of a second thought.

“Brian.”

A little over half an hour later, the gym was bright, the court filled with players. Brian was lost somewhere in the middle, doing his best to play the game that he loved, keeping his eyes on the ball. Though as he ran around, something constantly shielded his vision from it; the other guys. It wasn’t as if Brian had ever been much of an insecure guy - he had never had to be. He was good at sports - obviously - he was generally considered good-looking, and he usually didn’t have too much trouble with social interaction either. But as he ran around, eyes shifting from the ball to perfectly shaped biceps, from the ball to guys that hovered several inches above himself - six foot two wasn’t little, he knew this, but six foot two didn’t exactly make him one of the tallest people on the team either.

With flashes of guys that had things that he didn’t, he found himself wanting to wrap his arms around his body, shielding himself in a way that he had never really wanted to before.

***

Charlie held in a yawn, gathering her newly washed hair into a ponytail, tying it up at the back of her head as she made her way through the short hallway from the bathroom to the kitchen and livingroom. As she reached the end of the couch, she let her arms fall to her sides, looking at the girl on the couch. Isabella was sleeping on the thing, little enough that she could completely stretch out, a halo of black, curly hair surrounding her head. She wasn’t sucking her thumb, but her hand was resting by her mouth in a way that suggested that she had been at some point.

In reality, taking in a foster child probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do right now - she wasn’t even officially a foster child, but as she had been on her way to leave the station yesterday, she hadn’t had anywhere to go, and Charlie had heard her own voice offering before the thought had even carefully passed through her brain. She couldn’t help it - the little girl was so incredibly cute, but she also seemed… so sad.

It hurt Charlie’s heart just to look at her.

The front door opened, and it caught her attention, looking up to see Yevgeny walk straight into the livingroom, the bleach blonde hair tied up on top of his head, though a complete mess; Charlie could tell just from the way that he was walking that he was exhausted - understandable, maybe. She wasn’t exactly sure how long it took to drive from Miami to California, seeing as she had never done it, but she could only assume that it took a lot of time and energy - especially since he was the kind of person who despised to stop during a roadtrip unless he absolutely had to.

“Hey”, she greeted, bringing a frown onto his face most likely from the fact that she had whispered the word. He parted his lips, on his way to reciprocate, but his eyes flickered to the child on the couch instead.

“How long have I been gone?”, he questioned, causing her to have to fight back an eyeroll. She looked at the girl for another moment, watching as her chest moved up and down slowly, steadily - she wondered if she was used to feeling safe. If she felt safer in a stranger’s apartment than she normally did anywhere else - the thought was heartbreaking.

“That’s Bella”, she whispered, stepping close enough to her fiancé that she could wrap her hands in the hem of his grey henley, his eyes switching from looking into hers to studying the little girl behind her. “I was at the station yesterday, she didn’t have anywhere to go. Look, I know we’re busy, but I couldn’t leave her”, technically there was a little bit more information - Charlie’s dad had filled her in on Bella’s abusive mother - the woman was apparently dead now, but damage was damage.

“I don’t think it’s a good decision for us to have a child to take care of”, Yevgeny let her know. “Foster or not.”

“Not _a_ child”, Charlie fought back, both of them forcing themselves to keep their voices low, barely above a whisper. “This one.” There was, in fact, something special about this girl, and she couldn’t know what it was, but she was just somehow drawn to her. She wanted to take care of her, and she didn’t want to think of her getting lost in the system, neglected and who knows what else. Yevgeny parted his lips again, seemingly getting ready to say something else, but before he could, his eyes once again shifted away from Charlie’s and towards the couch, his shoulders rolling backwards a little bit as he straightened up.

Charlie heard the old leather couch creak, and she straightened up as well, turning around to see Bella laying on her back, one of her hands rubbing her eyes as she stretched out.

“Who are you?”, she asked, eyes focused on Yevgeny. Charlie looked at the girl for merely a second before turning back to Yev, waiting for his answer. He blinked, seemingly hesitating for only a short moment, then he took a few steps closer to the couch.

“I’m Yev, what’s your name?”, he questioned, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. Charlie stayed on the sidelines, fighting back a smile as she crossed her arms over her chest - having two younger siblings, she hadn’t been two worried about him with the girl. He liked kids - he just didn’t love surprises. But then again, it wasn’t as if she had planned it.

“Isabella”, the girl answered him, voice high pitched as she continued rubbing her eyes some more, cautious, brown eyes focused on him. “Yev is a weird name, where does it originate from?” Yevgeny turned around to look at Charlie, successfully hiding the look of stunned confusion from the child, but not his fiancé. Charlie nodded once - the girl used big words. How she had learned, she had no idea.

“Uh…”, he turned back to her. “Russia, I think.”

“You’re Russian?”

“My mom is”, he clarified. The girl nodded, looking as if she was suffocating a yawn.

“Your dad isn’t Russian?” Yevgeny shrugged. It was too early for this.

“Well, I’m pretty sure he’s Ukrainian, so…”, he trailed off.

“Russia and Ukraine are not the same thing”, Bella let him know, looking up at him, the sleeve of her shirt so close to her mouth that Charlie wondered if she was going to begin nibbling at it in replacement of her thumb.

“No, it’s not…”, Yevgeny had to agree. Isabella pushed herself to sit up, brushing away all of the hair that wanted to hang over her face as she switched her attention from Yevgeny to Charlie. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“It’s right in there”, Charlie pointed to the door at the end of the hallway. “Are you hungry?”, she asked then, and she believed that the girl told her yes, but it had been quiet, and she was already halfway to the bathroom, so she couldn’t know for sure. Once she disappeared into the small room and closed the door, Charlie turned back to Yevgeny, raising her eyebrows, waiting. He stared at her, waiting for a second or two before he rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine. She’s adorable.” But there was something else, too - that sadness that Charlie could sense, he sensed it to. And it was the kind of thing that made you want to wrap the kid up in a blanket and make sure that she could have anything and everything in life. She seemed so bright, but so, so sad.

***

Ian stood somewhere in between the kitchen and the livingroom, his hand curled around the wall as he looked through the dark house, the flickering light from the television the only thing that made him able to see the hint of the shapes on the couch - he had been placing the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, leaving the livingroom for a good fifteen minutes or so, but now he didn’t want to go back in. It seemed as if he would end up disturbing his husband as he slept, small snores filling the livingroom. Some of them were Mickey’s, and some where somewhat jumpier, slightly more high-pitched.

On top of Mickey, there was a curled up puppy - right on his upper chest, pressed into his neck and against the underside of his jaw. Ian wasn’t naive enough to think that his husband had softened enough to lift the dog up there himself, in fact he was rather sure that he had heard a quiet curse word or two a few minutes ago - but either way, Mickey’s hand was resting on the animal, keeping it close as they napped together.

‘ _Never wanted the thing_ ’ yeah, right. The thought almost caused Ian to chuckle. Mickey would end up loving that dog, if he didn’t already.

***

Brian sighed to himself, scratching his head as he sat in the middle of the small bed in the dorm-room, looking down at several books, the screen of his laptop being the main focus. He - naively - had believed that the first few weeks of college were going to be a little bit easy, a little bit of a soft start - especially in terms of homework, seeing as he was mainly focused on basketball. But here he was, the second Friday and he felt as if he was drowning. Well - that was an massive exaggeration - but he did have a lot more to do than he had expected. Lifting his hand up, he brushed the dark, tight curls of his hair backwards, right in time for the door to open up in front of him. Looking up out of reflex, Brian only kept his eyes on his roommate for a split second before shifting his attention back to his studies again.

He had to admit that Ronnie wasn’t quite as much of an asshole as he had first perceived him to be - but then again, he was rather sure that the words that they had exchanged with each other since move-in day could be counted on one of his hands, so maybe he couldn’t judge him after all - good or bad. The guy looked intimidating - tattoos stretching from his jaw to his cuticles, and never did he smile - mostly he just kept to himself, something Brian didn’t mind.

He sensed his presence moving from the door to his side of the dorm, but then he tuned him out, clicking out of his pages document, distracting himself with social media for a minute, scrolling through different pages, stopping on a picture or two. One of the ones he came across on instagram was a - honestly most likely professionally shot, and no doubt sponsored - picture of a guy around his own age, possibly a few years older. He was standing in the middle of a gym with his shirt off, looking down at his smooth, perfectly chiseled abs, his hand wrapped around a plastic jar of some kind of energy powder.

Brian swallowed, eyes stuck to his abs, flickering to his arms every once in a while. He looked good. He looked so fucking good - but there was some kind of unsettling feeling in Brian’s throat. He wasn’t looking at the guy in the way that he looked at Cole, or anyone else that he found attractive. Looking at the picture, he found that he didn’t feel horny at all - if it was possible, he felt less so than he had before finding the picture.

In fact, he mostly just wanted put a second shirt on and cross his arms over his chest, forgetting about his own chest. He wasn’t overweight, Brian knew this - in fact, he was rather in shape - but he couldn’t possibly be compared to these guys. Maybe he would never be able to.

“Hey.” His roommate’s voice was what caught him to look up, tugged out of his own head. Ronnie was standing in the doorway, his eyebrows slightly raised, large, tattooed hand curled around the doorframe. He raised his eyebrows a bit further, and it made Brian realize that he had probably asked a question before, the ‘hey’ being his way of repeating it.

“What? Sorry”, Brian mumbled, still slightly lost inside of his own head. His roommate seemed slightly annoyed, but opened his mouth again anyway.

“There’s gonna be a fucking midnight screening of Get Out tonight, there’s like twenty of us going. You wanna come?” It sounded a little bit as if he was asking out of obligation, like they had all decided to invite their roommates - which was very likely - though despite Brian’s usual ‘I’m not fucking going where I’m not wanted’ policy, he shrugged. It was the movies, he could sit in the corner and pretend he was alone, after all.

“Sure”, he agreed. “I’m bringing my twin sister.”

“Whatever”, Ronnie said in monotone, then he excited the room, leaving Brian’s eyes to drift back to the guys on the screen, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

***

Briana felt like the most cliché college student ever as she took the last few steps towards the door to her dorm and opened it, sighing as she finally threw her bag onto her small bed, getting rid of the weight on her shoulder. Moving all of her hair to one side of her body, she joined the item, leaning back against the wall as she fished her phone out of her pocket, beginning to look through it as she hadn’t had the chance in a few hours. There wasn’t much - a text from her dad, one from Mandy, both of them basically just asking how everything was going. She closed them both, deciding she would answer later.

After that, she locked the phone and put it down onto the bed beside her, looking around her room - it was tiny, but she had to admit that she was extremely happy that she had been able to get herself a single room, and not have to deal with rude or annoying roommates - such as the one Brian had been complaining about. She had a feeling that the whole ‘I lost my arm in a school shooting’ thing had helped her out a little bit, and every once in a while she felt guilty for milking it, but she only did it when she would get something out of it that she absolutely wanted.

Like a single dorm room.

Just as she was beginning to contemplate whether she should take a shower, get something to eat or just lock herself in her room the entire night and watch Netflix - which honestly felt like the best plan - there was a knock on her door, and she sighed to herself, scratching the side of her head as she pushed the bag further back onto her bed and stood up to answer, throwing the door open with a little bit more force than originally intended.

She wasn’t sure what the girl’s name was, but she had seen her around a time or two. Blonde hair, skinny jeans, lots of makeup - all of the things that seemed to make a girl popular nowadays, although not very memorable. Not that Briana had anything against it, she chose to believe that the majority of people were at least somewhat kind.

“Hey?”, Briana asked, pulling the girl’s attention away from her bare shoulder - in a moment of naivety, before college she had believed that college students wouldn’t care as much about her missing a limb as high schoolers had seemed to, but of course it wasn’t a usual thing - not many people walked around with three limbs. In fact, a lot of the people in high school had been even more nice about it, seeing as they knew exactly what had happened - they had been there, they had seen her recovering, listened to her curse as she had more than one thing to carry at a time. It wasn’t as if people in college were rude about it - they never said anything, and if they did, it was rather respectful. They looked, though - they always fucking looked, and sometimes it made her wish that she had inherited a little bit more of her father’s balls rather than her mother’s kindness.

“Uh, hi - I’m… sorry?”, she girl said, causing it to sound like a question. Briana shrugged, not sure of what to say. “I just wanted to tell you that there’s going to be a party at one of the frat houses down the road - we’re inviting the entire hall.” Briana nodded once - parties used to be her scene once. She used to smoke, drink, even fuck one or two people that she hadn’t heard from since, but in the past few years, since the shooting, she hadn’t stepped her foot inside of a party. It was as if she had been forced to grow up - too fast, admittedly.

“Well, thanks”, she said to the girl. “I’ll see if I’ll go or not.” The girl smiled before walking away - a smile that Briana didn’t feel she could label as genuine. It wasn’t mean or malicious - just tense. And sometimes, it made her a little bit sad that people felt so uncomfortable around her because of this one thing. Even Lena, who had been her best friend for years, before the shooting - she got weird, and Briana wasn’t sure what to do about it. She couldn’t exactly hide her missing limb, and… suddenly she was reminded that she didn’t have a therapist around here yet, and the more she spun the more she would need one, so she should probably stop now.

***

  
_Roommate asked me to the movies, you wanna come? There’s gonna be like 20 people I think, idk. I wasn’t really listening._

Brian sent the text away to Briana, then he threw the device back onto his bed, the thing barely having the time to land before it beeped and he picked it back up.

_When?_

_Midnight_

_Idk, I was invited to a frat party_

_You seriously going to that?_

It wasn’t exactly shocking or anything - once upon a time, his sister had been the life of those parties. Well… not frat parties - high school parties, but still - parties were parties. But she hadn’t showed any interest in over two years, so the fact that she would rather go to that than to the movies was at least a little bit surprising. Then again, she could do whatever she wanted, he would rather have her by his side, seeing as everything around here was still new and all, but he would be just fine either way. Another part of him wanted to go with his baby sister to the frat party, just because she was just that - his baby sister - who was technically a few minutes older than himself, but whatever.

_Want me to come?_

He added the message when she took a few seconds to answer.

_No, I’m fine. I’ll come to the movies next time_

***

“Hey”, Brian greeted as he reached the movie theatre, recognizing the one guy that stood leaning up against the red brick building - even though they didn’t exactly hang out, the shoulder length hair was a tell tale sign that it was that that guy on the basketball team - Dean, wasn’t it? The guy looked down at his phone for another second, seemingly finishing typing something out before pushing himself off of the wall and pressing it down into his back pocket.

“Hi, man - Brian, right?”, Dean asked, to which he nodded. He didn’t seem too bad, in fact, seeing as Brian had been a little bit too busy settling in at college to actually make friends, he was probably the closest thing. Expect for Briana, but…

“No one here?”

“Ah, they were”, Dean said. “At least a couple of them, then they decided to head over to the liquor store to buy something to sneak in - they’ll be back”, he shrugged to himself, and Brian nodded.

“Don’t drink, huh?”, Brian asked him then, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jeans - it was a bad habit, one he had fallen back into lately. But it was somewhat comforting to feel the smoke travel down his throat and into his lungs, then watching it dance in front of his face a moment later.

“Not really”, the guy let him know. “Sometimes, but I never really caught onto the whole ‘get drunk whenever possible’ thing.” Brian hummed, for a second realizing how very similar the words had been to the ones that his sister used whenever she was questioned about drinking. Weird.

***

Really, the minute that Briana entered that damn frat party, she should have known that she didn’t belong. There were red cups and empty bottles of alcohol spread all over the place - almost to the point where the floor was hidden; this can’t be a one night party, it had to have been going on for a while. Or they just never cleaned it up, somehow both seemed semi-plausible. The loud music didn’t bother her too much, it was just the kind of music - cheesy pop music - why. What was wrong with classic rock, or indie? Alas, she crossed her arm over her chest, fingers curling around the side of her body, and she made her way through the crowd of dancing, stumbling and vomiting people.

Someone yelled something at her - called her Bethany Hamilton, yeah. She had never. ever. heard that one before. Shut the fuck up. Or at least compare her to a latina instead of a white girl. Not that she didn’t have respect for the girl, she had gone through so fucking mu - okay. Damn it. If she was going to get through even an hour of this party, then she desperately needed to find a way to stop thinking. She did it way too much - went over things, and then went over them, and then looked at them upside down - she couldn’t imagine anybody using their brain more than she did. And it was rarely a good thing.

After walking through the sweaty, drunk people for a minute, she found a cart. It was probably meant to be used for - and even decorated with - really nice, expensive bottles of whiskey, and other types of alcohol with nice bottles, crystal glasses. Instead it was completely covered in Jack, beer, and other types of whiskey, so cheap she wondered whether it was technically legal to label it just that. Both in and out of bottles, it covered the thing - half drunken cups, empty cups, spilled cups - and this didn’t even seem to be the main alcohol station in the room.

A straight couple had taken their place on the couch right next to the cart, making out as if they were completely alone - who knows, maybe they had enough shit in their blood that they believed that they were. She doubted that alcohol was the only thing around here that people took to… enhance their evening. Damn it. She cursed inwardly as she looked around the place - when did she become this person?

Two and a half years ago, she would have been the person on that couch, or that girl over there on the table, dancing to Kanye West - thank fuck they had finally put on something other than fucking Demi Lovato. What happened to her? It wasn’t as if she wanted to be one of those braindead girls, but she used to be fun. People used to like her. Now, a part of her wondered if her arm wasn’t the only thing that she had lost.

She was eighteen, acting like thirty five. She wasn’t supposed to be this person - she had never wanted to be this person. Standing in the middle of a party, complaining about everything - whether she was doing it internally or not, it didn’t really make much of a difference.

Taking one more look at the girl on top of the table, she reached for the bottle of Jack on the cart, and without thinking much, she screwed the top off, swallowing some of it down; before she could register the burning in her throat, she repeated the action once, and then another time until she had swallowed at least five good mouthfuls of the alcohol. Not until then, she pulled it away from her mouth and wiped her lips, screwing the top back on, hearing some cheering from behind her.

“Hey, baby - wanna have some fun?” She felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, a hand grabbing her ass tightly as she was tugged towards the guy that she wasn’t even bothering to look at.

“Fuck off”, she used her one arm and a good amount of her body weight to push him away.

“Aye, fuck you bitch”, he cursed. “Didn’t want your mutililated ass anyway.”

“It’s mutilated”, she rolled her eyes, reaching for one of the half empty cups of beer, swallowing it down before grabbing another one. Maybe if she drank some more, she would be able to let herself go - and then maybe she would be able to find the person that she used to be. The person that people liked, and the person that she was proud of.

The Briana that used to be fun.

The problem was that she hadn’t drank in so long, she wasn’t all that sure of when to stop. So she drank, and she drank, and she drank. The more alcohol that she swallowed down, the less she cared about when she should stop. So she drank a little bit more. Eventually, she had to sit down on the edge of the couch, her hand curled around a bottle of jack, her black hair beginning to become a little bit frizzy with the heat of the room.

She drank some more, and she melted into the music. Soon she wasn’t drunk anymore - she was just gone. Gone enough that when a guy - or five - pulled her down onto the floor and begun tugging her shirt off, she didn’t have a way to realize what was happening. Much less resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaaank you for sticking with this. I love you guys <3


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